


Long Live The King

by undyingUmbrage



Category: Battle Royale - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, On Hiatus, Probably permanently :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-07 07:03:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11053803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undyingUmbrage/pseuds/undyingUmbrage
Summary: In a re-imagining of Battle Royale where a single, relatively minor event just happened to unfold differently, how much can the students' fate possibly change (and how much can it stay the same)?





	1. Chapter 1

Ryuhei Sasagawa took careful, measured steps down the hallway. Though his movements were calm, anyone who knew him would instantly sense something was off- he was best known for rushing headlong into action with little thought of consequence. But it was an entirely different game when his life was at stake. It wasn’t so much that he was moving cautiously on purpose, but that if he let himself relax even a slight fraction, he would collapse in an inconsolable heap in front of the rows of blank-faced soldiers. What a way to start the game, getting laughed at by a bunch of government ass-kissers. He wondered how tough they would be if they got thrown into the game, without all their fancy equipment. They definitely wouldn’t hold up as well as him, that was for sure.

Silently scorning the soldiers helped soothe his nerves just a little, allowing him to proceed without incident. After what felt like forever (but it had to have been less than two minutes, or else the next student would have caught up to him), he reached the end of the hallway, managing not to hesitate before taking his first step onto the battlegrounds. God, what bullshit that was. Were the other students actually going to try and kill each other? Ryuhei shook his head slightly. Anyone who actually tried to play the game was an idiot, and a selfish idiot at that. It was hard to believe anyone would go that far… but if they did, why not be prepared? Remembering the tip about a weapon being part of their assigned packs, he carefully made his way to the side of the school, pressing his back against the wall in an effort not to be seen.

It was a smart move. A split second after he vanished around the building’s side, another student appeared from the doors. He didn’t have to look to know who it was- the girl with the same class number as him, Hirono Shimizu. The thought of reaching out to her didn’t occur to him. After all, she was one of Souma’s gang, which was pretty much the number one sign of certifiable insanity. There was a reason his gang’s affairs had never gotten mixed up with theirs, and it wasn’t Mitsuru’s weird hangups about picking on girls (as far as Ryuhei was concerned, anyone was fair game, but it wasn’t worth fighting Numai over- besides, any girls weak enough to be bullied had usually already been shaken down by Souma anyway, go figure).

Hirono vanished into the night without noticing him. He had a two-minute window to get his weapon and get the hell out of there before another student came into play. Wrestling with the stiff zipper, he dragged it open after a few endless-seeming seconds, peering into the bag until he got a sense of what was inside. Despite the relative darkness, he instantly noticed the smooth, black-painted metal resting on top of his other supplies. Upon closer inspection, he determined that it was definitely a gun, and even if the finer details escaped him, any gun was more than enough to defend himself. Even if he had never fired one before, it was easy enough to load, and having it in his hand made him a little more relaxed, enough to think ahead beyond his immediate survival.

What had that note from Kazuo said? Meet at the southern tip? Yeah, that was it. No matter how completely the world went to hell, he could always rely on Kazuo, and the rest of the gang too. They had all been on reasonably good terms when their gang formed, but over time, their bonds had deepened to the point where the five of them were practically inseparable. None of them could quite remember who had started referring to their group as the “Kiriyama Family”, but there was no doubt that it fit them perfectly. Only taking a quick glance at his compass to determine which way was south, Ryuhei started running, managing to get a good distance away from the school before Hiroki Sugimura emerged.

Luckily for Ryuhei, there was a path leading south, keeping him from going off track. He stopped running once the school was out of sight, not wanting to attract attention with the noise. Besides, with the gun in his hand and his nerves constantly on the verge of a breakdown, he was quick to tire of running. Better to conserve his energy, especially if Kazuo already had an escape plan figured out. Even if getting off the island was the main priority, Ryuhei couldn’t help but nurse a little hope that he would get to turn his generously government-supplied weapon on that bastard Sakamochi. Just to show him what it was like to be at the mercy of someone else- he wouldn’t pull the trigger unless he had to, but the thought of having to kill him wasn’t nearly as sickening as having to kill innocent classmates.

Man, when did he start thinking so much? People knew him as the guy who made impulsive decisions, who barely scraped by in all his subjects (to be fair, he probably could have done better if he cared), who had no brain-mouth filter whatsoever. Well, thinking had kept him alive up to that point. Maybe he would consider doing it a bit more often if he managed to survive.

He didn’t have time to evaluate the seriousness of his own promise. As he kept walking, he noticed a shadow directly in front of him, far away but moving slowly enough that he could easily catch up. A closer look revealed that the shadow was definitely human-shaped, and was wearing pants rather than a skirt. A boy, then- but who? Not sure if he would be able to escape without being noticed, Ryuhei could only continue following from a distance, suddenly hyperaware of any noise he might have been making. Reluctant as he was to use it, he raised his gun, aiming it at the silhouette. Just in case- for all he knew, the other guy had a gun too. If it came to that, he would have to strike first and hope for the best.

He took another step forward. His body seemed to be aware of what he had done before it even happened- a pronounced shiver ran through him before he heard the unmistakeable noise of a twig cracking. Fuck, he had really done it now. Gun still raised, he was prepared to sprint into the forest before he could-

“Ryuhei?”

He froze, wondering whether it was too good to be true. He would know that voice anywhere, even when it was distorted by stress and fear. The feared shadow he had been following was none other than Hiroshi Kuronaga, his fellow Kiriyama Family member. It all made sense- he had left the school just a little before Ryuhei, and had apparently decided on the same path south. Ryuhei lowered his gun as he took a few steps towards Hiroshi, but kept it pointed in the same general direction. “Oh, hey. There you are.” He did his best to keep it cool, not betraying just how grateful he was to see a friendly face.

Hiroshi nodded back, seeming to understand. “Yeah. Going to meet the boss, right? He’ll bust us outta here.” Ryuhei kept walking until he had caught up to Hiroshi, noticing that he wasn’t carrying a weapon. He probably hadn’t stopped for long enough to take it out. He seemed impressed at Ryuhei’s gun, nodding approvingly. Ryuhei wasn’t sure how much Hiroshi actually knew about guns, but he chose to take that as a good sign.

“Course he will. No one’s dying except those government dicks, better believe it.” Ryuhei even managed a smile, surprised when it didn’t feel strained at all. Once he wasn’t alone, it was easy to pretend things were as normal as they had always been. They continued along the path, quietly discussing exactly what revenge they felt like enacting on Sakamochi and his soldiers. That proved to pass time quite effectively, until they arrived at a rocky shore that seemed to be the island’s southern limit. Both of them looked left and right, as far as they could see, but the shore was empty. No sign of Kazuo or anyone else.

“Where the h-“ Hiroshi’s sentence was cut off by a choked gasp. Stunned at the unexpected noise, Ryuhei was only brought back to his senses by the rush of cold air from a school coat. He couldn’t think. There was no time to think. He could only aim and fire, hand convulsing with every bullet as his brain screamed in the most primitive instinct it could muster- _Remove the threat._

It was only a few seconds before he let go of the trigger, but by the time the awful clattering of the machine pistol died down, at least twenty-five rounds had buried themselves in his target, at a close enough range to fully penetrate Hiroshi’s attacker. They never stood a chance. The assailant twitched once, dropping a bloody knife to the ground before collapsing in absolute silence.

Ryuhei felt strangely numb. His body was moving on autopilot, taking a lurching step towards Hiroshi (to his credit, he only looked mildly afraid- maybe he was in shock too). A bright red line crossed his neck that was slowly dripping blood, but it was a shallow cut with no apparent damage to anything vital. Another second with that knife pressing against him, and… it was unimaginable. But an equally bad, perhaps worse truth was on the horizon. Exactly who had attacked them? Ryuhei didn’t want to look, perhaps because some part of him already knew.

The rain of bullets had punched through his head and chest so efficiently that little of them remained, but he saw enough familiar slicked-back hair clinging to scattered chunks of skin and bone to (quite literally) piece together the truth.

He didn’t care who saw him crying anymore, though it was hard to tell if his tears would be visible among the spray of blood that had coated most of his face and uniform. The world had ended, or at least it might as well have. Maybe he had already died and this was some kind of fucked-up hell? It made sense- the bonds of the Kiriyama Family were meant to be unbreakable and lifelong. They weren’t supposed to be torn apart by Kazuo of all people. Kazuo! Their brilliant, trusted leader! Ryuhei couldn’t even begin to fathom what might have driven him to turn on his own gang. He didn’t want to believe that Kazuo Kiriyama could be brought so low by anything.

But had he? Hiroshi wasn’t badly hurt. For all he knew, maybe that had been on purpose. Had the attack been a scheme, to test their loyalty, or fool someone else? As the possibilities dawned on him, every part of Ryuhei’s body felt heavier than a crushing boulder, especially the hand that still held the gun. No matter how important the Family had been to him, no matter how much of his life he pledged to it, it hadn’t been enough. And Kazuo had paid the ultimate price for his ultimate lack of faith. Blood had started to trickle down into his mouth, and he didn’t even feel as if he deserved to spit it out.

Hiroshi was staring at him, an incredulous look slowly forming on his face. Go ahead, stare! Scream! Run away from the murderer! Just as the silence became unbearable, Hiroshi spoke, wincing slightly when his injured neck moved to the pattern of his words. “You saved me.”

“Huh?” Ryuhei blurted the noise out, the perversely normal action returning some feeling to his weighed-down extremities. Had it been his imagination, or had Hiroshi sounded… grateful?

“He was going to kill me, Ryuhei.” His voice was low and oddly serious, even if it wavered at a few points. “I could feel it, somehow. You stopped him.” Ryuhei could only keep staring back, his frozen face revealing nothing of how torn he felt. “We should find the others. We can still get out of here, Boss or no Boss. Right?” He reached out a hand, checking to make sure it was free of blood.

Ryuhei shook his head, relieved when his tongue came unstuck from the roof of his mouth long enough to form words. “Are you crazy? If they see…” He couldn’t bring himself to gesture at Kazuo’s body. “They’ll never believe us.”

It took a moment, but Hiroshi nodded sadly. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.” He looked up at the sky, still pitch-dark with only the moon and stars to illuminate the area. Barely twenty minutes had passed since Ryuhei had left the school, but in that time, an era had ended. The unbreakable Kiriyama Family had crumbled, their king dead on the ground after attempted treason of the worst kind. The king is dead, long live the king.

Before he could wonder if his train of thought had derailed into complete insanity, a nearby rustling noise demanded their full attention. Ryuhei didn’t even have to think about it, when there was no one left for them to wait for. He was already running, Hiroshi close behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seriously questioning my ability to write anything angst-free at this point.
> 
> But anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! Feedback of any kind is always welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't planned on adding to this, but after posting it I realised it just wasn't finished. Alternate timelines are really interesting.

They managed to completely leave the reef behind before Ryuhei stopped, wheezing so hard that his entire body was shaking. The rocky but otherwise flat ground had given way to a gentle uphill slope that was simply proving too difficult to conquer. He had never exerted himself so much in his life, and at that point, he was beginning to regret that decision. Hiroshi caught up quickly, not looking nearly as exhausted. “You didn’t get shot or anything, right?”

“Do I… look shot, dumbass?” He managed to squeeze the words out between deep breaths, groaning miserably.

Hiroshi looked closer at Ryuhei. He was doubled over and clutching his stomach, still making pathetic noises. He was hanging his head far down enough that his hair hid most of his face, which was still covered in rapidly drying blood. “Kinda.” Ryuhei reached out in what was probably an attempt to hit Hiroshi, but all he could do was wave his hand uselessly before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. 

After a few tense minutes of waiting for him to recover, Hiroshi opened his assigned daypack, wondering what kind of weapon he had. If it was another gun, they’d definitely be in a good position, but even something like a long knife or an axe would be useful to deter close-range attackers. Maybe they could-

His train of thought stopped short when he saw what was actually there. Was that supposed to be some kind of joke? Shoving the “weapon” aside with disgust, he searched through the depths of the bag, hoping to find something useful, but that was it. Suddenly irritated, he turned and glared when he heard a short burst of laughter. Seemingly recovered, Ryuhei had picked up the paper fan, then proceeding to smack Hiroshi on the head with it. “You got a good one!”

“Fuck off.” He snatched the fan back, despite not really wanting it in the first place. “So what are we gonna do?”

“What are we gonna do about what?” Ryuhei seemed distracted, though for a good reason- the drying blood had started to flake off his face, and it was itching like hell. He was tempted to just start scratching it off, but the idea of touching it was less than appealing, especially when it wasn’t even his own blood. Instead, desperate to get rid of it, he fished a bottle of water out of his pack and tipped most of it onto his face. After that, it only took a few wipes with his sleeve to get rid of most of the irritation, finally seeming to relax when his face felt clean again.

Hiroshi watched, not quite sure how to feel. The blood on his face had definitely been disturbing, but at the same time, he was pretty sure Ryuhei didn’t need to use that much water. Hopefully they would be able to find more, or maybe they could manage to escape before it became a problem. Speaking of escape, he still had no idea where to even start with that. “We were gonna get out of here, right?”

“Yeah, totally.” Evidently Ryuhei was just as clueless, even if getting him to admit it would be like pulling teeth. He might have called him out on it, but Hiroshi wasn’t enthused by the idea of also having to admit that he had no ideas. They sat in uneasy silence, which one of them might have been forced to break if not for the noise behind them. It sounded almost like a footstep, or at least close enough that both of them were instantly alert, Ryuhei reaching for his gun as they turned around.

A girl had somehow crept up behind them, maintaining a battle stance that didn’t waver even when they turned to face her. Oddly enough, despite her aggressive position, she didn’t seem to notice them at all. From what Ryuhei could see, her gaze was fixed on something behind them, though he didn’t think there was anything notable there.

“…Inada?” It took a moment for him to remember her name, and even then, he wasn’t entirely certain that he was right. There was no way she hadn’t heard, but she continued to look past them as if they were part of the scenery. “Hey!” He waved a hand back and forth between them, frowning when it completely failed to draw her gaze.

* * *

Mizuho carefully considered the scene before her. The boys that had been resting at the foot of the mountain didn’t seem to mean her any harm, but she knew perfectly well that appearances could be deceiving. Did demons lurk under their gentle exteriors? Until she could be certain, it wasn’t safe to look them in the eye, unless she was struck by the sudden desire to have her soul snatched.

Yes, it was definitely a trying time, but Mizuho had always known her path wouldn’t be an easy one. And no matter how hard things got, she was never alone. Ahura Mazda’s presence lingered behind her, keeping a watchful eye on everything.

“What do you think?” She directly addressed the elder god, a comforting light teasing the very edges of her vision. “Are they safe?” One of them said something, but she made sure not to listen. If it wasn’t a curse intended to turn her bones inside out, she could always ask him to repeat it later.

 _They harbour no demons. But you have a choice to make, young warrior._ She nodded, silently prompting the god to continue. _Your destiny is clear, but many paths lead to it. Do you seek to aid the forces of light, or will you pursue power by any means?_

Mizuho gasped. “You already know that! You know I would never hurt them.” Had she given Ahura Mazda any reason to doubt her? Certainly, the boys shooting concerned glances her way and whispering among themselves were unruly and potentially criminal, but they were human. They deserved to live- though it was debatable how long they would live, without a single trace of divine leadership. It was almost pathetic, in a way.

 _You pity them._ The voice was almost amused, but in a benevolent way. Had she thought to compare it to anything, Mizuho might have been reminded of a wise old grandparent. _Do what you will, warrior. In the end, your choices will define you._

She took a deep breath, then another. To the painfully ordinary boys (if only she could remember their names!), she was certain that she struck an intimidating figure- a battle-hardened warrior, cloaked by cosmic light. Hopefully they would understand that she meant no harm. Encouraged by their apparent lack of fear, she took a few steps closer, finally looking directly at them. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

Ryuhei took a step back. He would never admit to being scared of a girl, but surely Hiroshi would have to agree that Inada talking to herself, then suddenly offering to “keep them safe” was extremely unsettling, whether she was playing or not. “Yeah, that’s great and all, but…” He hadn’t thought out the end of his sentence before starting it. Instead, he just grabbed Hiroshi and ran.

Mizuho watched them go, deciding not to give chase. It was a shame, but some people just didn’t take to the truth as well as others. What had she been doing before encountering them? Of course- looking for her fellow warrior. Lorela Lausasse Kaori would have some valuable insight on the game, she was sure of it. And even beyond that, it was just nice to have her around. Wherever she was, she was definitely fighting bravely and honourably. “Don’t give up, Kaori,” she whispered into the crystal on her necklace. The message would reach her somehow, as long as she kept believing.

* * *

If they hadn’t been potentially surrounded by hostile classmates, Ryuhei would have been loudly groaning at the pain in his legs. It felt wrong to have to suppress what he was thinking, despite it contributing absolutely no value to anything. According to their map, they had walked almost two kilometres without stopping, taking them from the relatively isolated mountain to an area with several buildings. Hiroshi kept a firm hold of the map and compass- they were near a danger zone, and he wasn’t going to let either of them forget it.

Most of the buildings they had passed looked somewhat inviting, but not enough to risk running into someone’s hideout. The school was visible in the distance, every window lit up, but there was no way to safely approach it. Neither of them had ever thought they would want to be inside a school, but that was where they had been before everything went to hell. The glowing lights were a reminder of the normality and structure they had once dismissed as boring, but after a taste of the alternative, it was starting to look much more attractive.

“This sucks.” Apparently Ryuhei had bottled up as much as he possibly could. “Are we just gonna walk until our legs fall off, is that the plan?”

“Shut up, would you?” He wished he could shove Ryuhei, but he would save the urge to do so until they were safely away from the forbidden zone. “If you’re gonna be such a goddamn princess, we can stop soon. Map says there’s a clinic not too far from here, how about there?”

“Fine, but it better actually be “not too far”, right?” He would have protested more about being called a princess, but the fear and lack of sleep were beginning to catch up with him, dulling his ability to care much about anything besides finding a relatively safe place to rest. Miraculously, his legs continued to hold out, and the minutes passed in a blur until they were finally standing at the door of the clinic. It was slightly more run-down than either of them had expected, but it was sturdy enough. It wasn’t as if they were moving in permanently or anything.

Hiroshi returned the map and compass to his daypack, trading them for the flashlight. His hand brushed the paper fan as he rummaged, face briefly twisting with disdain. Why did he even still have that? To his credit, Ryuhei didn’t have to be reminded to keep his gun in hand at all times. Ignoring his heart beginning to beat faster, Hiroshi opened the door without bothering to knock. If there was someone in there, they had probably already noticed them coming anyway.

The clinic was dark and silent. From what Hiroshi could see by running the flashlight back and forth across the length of the room, nothing was noticeably out of place, and there was no sign of any student or their belongings. Even after they had located and flipped the light switch, they kept searching, several minutes passing before either of them felt comfortable deciding that they were alone.

The change was instantaneous in Ryuhei. His shoulders sagged, his eyelids drooped, and his grip on his gun relaxed so quickly that he almost dropped it. If he had to guess, he would have said that fear of being ambushed had kept him moving for far longer than his body would usually tolerate, but it was impossible to keep up within the confines of the clinic. Even if someone tried to jump them, they would at least have some warning from the door or windows being broken down.

Hiroshi sighed when he saw Ryuhei slumped on the stripped-bare hospital bed. “Fine, you can sleep first. Just give me that gun.” No answer. He moved closer, leaning down to get a closer look at Ryuhei. As he suspected, he was fast asleep, looking surprisingly peaceful. Luckily, it was easy to get the gun out of his hand, with no risk of it accidentally firing. After a moment of pause, he made his way over to a small closet on the other side of the room, relieved when he found exactly what he had hoped for. The blanket looked old and worn out, but it was still intact, and judging by Ryuhei’s satisfied mutter when it was spread over him, it was still comfortable too.

He pulled up a chair, checking his watch once he was seated in the direction facing the door. Just past 4am. He could hold out until the 6am announcement, he decided, settling in for what he hoped would be an extremely boring time.

* * *

It was just as boring as Hiroshi had hoped for. He managed not to fall asleep, mainly by excessively worrying over the slightest sounds, and checking his watch every few minutes. The 6am announcement didn’t catch him by surprise at all, after how long he had been counting down the exact minutes and seconds until the loudspeakers installed across the island began to crackle with activity. Sakamochi sounded so grotesquely cheerful that a rather graphic fantasy of throttling him formed in Hiroshi’s mind before too long.

“Well then, I will now announce the names of your dead friends.” He had almost moved to wake Ryuhei, but decided to wait. “First, Yoshio Akamatsu.” Hiroshi looked down, not sure how to feel at all. He had picked on Akamatsu a few times (though it was mostly Ryuhei who started it), but he felt no real animosity against him, and it definitely didn’t feel good to hear about his death. He didn’t have time to think anything else before the broadcast continued.

“Next, number six, Kazuo Kiriyama.” Was it his imagination, or did Sakamochi sound slightly disgruntled? Even if it had been impossible to really get out of his head, the reminder of Kazuo’s death was far from pleasant. Almost involuntarily, he reached up to touch the cut across his neck. It was far from completely healed, but at the very least, it had stopped bleeding. It would be pretty cool if it left a scar, he thought, instantly disgusted with himself for making light of it.

“And number twenty-one, Kazuhiko Yamamoto. And then, let’s see, the girls. Number three, Megumi Eto, number four, Sakura Ogawa, number five, Izumi Kanai, number fourteen, Mayumi Tendo.” A short moment of silence. “Not bad, but not great either. Keep it up, all right?” Hiroshi hadn’t known the rest of their dead classmates very well, but he still felt a slight pain at hearing each of their names. Judging by the amount of blood on his knife, Kazuo had probably killed someone before finding them, and he had a strong suspicion that Sakura and Kazuhiko had committed suicide together, but that still left several deaths unaccounted for. Could someone really be playing the game? He didn’t want to believe it, but after what they had already been through, trust was beginning to seem more and more like a luxury.

“Now then, the forbidden zones.” Pen ready to mark his map, Hiroshi had to force down the hate that tried to surface at the sound of the Program Instructor’s voice.

* * *

Ryuhei leaned back against the chair, keeping an eye on the surroundings. Two hours wasn’t exactly much of a rest, but it had been enough to take the edge off for a while. The sun had started rising soon after he was woken up, giving him some nice colours to watch. He could almost forget that they were in the Program- it wasn’t a concept that he associated with nice sunrises.

He checked his watch. It was 8:38. On a regular day, he had usually already eaten breakfast by then, and his growling stomach didn’t let him forget it. Hoping to keep his hunger sated with as little as possible, he took a bread roll from his pack, breaking it in half before returning one half to the bag. Of course, it was awful government-issued bread, but it was much better than nothing. He had almost devoured half of his portion when he picked up on a distant sound. It almost resembled a loudspeaker’s crackle, but it was far too early for an announcement. He listened closer, wondering what was going on.

“Hey, everyone! Listen up!” That was clearly a girl’s voice, though Ryuhei had no idea who it was. Taking a risk, he turned away from the door, eyes straining in the direction of the voice to find any hint of who was calling out. He couldn’t see anything. He might have spotted whoever was calling out if he was higher up, but as it was, the angle made it impossible. He could only keep listening, wondering what was so important that it had to be broadcast to everyone.

The girl, whoever she was, called for peace. She called for everyone to stop fighting, and to all gather in one spot, presumably to try and escape. Apparently someone still believed that no one really wanted to play. That was nice for them, but in the interests of not getting killed, Ryuhei stayed exactly where he was, trying not to listen. There was no point hoping, when he knew the voice would eventually be cut off, inevitably silenced by someone she would welcome as a friend.

* * *

Somehow, Yumiko and Yukiko’s voices didn’t cease, providing a steady backdrop of noise to Shuya and Shogo’s argument. Weren’t their throats getting sore? “I told you, it’s safe!” Shuya finally managed to pull his arm free, stepping back before Shogo could try and grab him again. “I’m going to get them.”

Shogo just shook his head. Shuya couldn’t quite place a specific emotion on his frown, but if he had to guess, it was somewhere between disgust and defeat. “You’re getting yourself killed, is what you’re doing. And probably Noriko too.”

“Come on.” He tried to smile back, but it was hard when even Noriko looked so uncertain. “They’re not like that. There’s no way anyone’s playing.” Before either of them could protest, Shuya had already exited the safety of the bushes.

* * *

 Mitsuru Numai looked down at the ground, barely even daring to blink. A student lay at his feet, facedown and limbs sprawled outward. With a gentleness that didn’t quite fit his size or appearance, Mitsuru knelt down and plucked the weapon from their hand. A gun. No, not just a gun- an automatic pistol. He had to rub his eyes to keep himself from physically seeing red as he glared at the gun’s former owner.

“Was it you?” His voice was harsh, but not as harsh as the kick he delivered to Yoshimi’s side. She cried out at the sudden pain, struggling to remember how she had gotten there in the first place. She had left the residential area, walking… looking for someone? She had heard something, looked to see what it was, then… something colliding with her head, with enough force to knock her to the ground. “I said, was it you? Answer me, damn it!” Even if Yoshimi had known what her attacker was yelling about, she couldn’t have managed to choke out any words through the tears and pain.

Mitsuru had already pulled his foot back to kick again, but he stopped when he heard Yoshimi crying. What the hell was he even doing? Sure, she had a gun, and she was in Mitsuko’s gang, but that didn’t automatically make her guilty. There was no way to know how many students had guns. Letting out a long, deep sigh, he crouched down next to her, ashamed beyond words when he caught a glimpse of her face. The fall had been hard enough to bruise Yoshimi’s face as well as causing a nosebleed. Together with her eyes that were already red and puffy from tears, she looked like a complete mess, but she wasn’t too badly injured. He put Yoshimi’s gun down and slid it out of her reach (just in case) before reaching a hand out to her. “Sorry.”

She looked up at him for a moment, clearly confused by his sudden change in demeanour, but eventually decided to take his hand. Once she was standing, she looked him up and down, then bolted in the opposite direction without so much as a single word. Though it was understandable, Mitsuru was still a little disappointed. Hopefully she would find a way to survive without a weapon.

Speaking of that weapon, it was still abandoned on the ground. There was no point just leaving it, he decided, stashing it in his daypack. “I’ll find them, Boss,” he quietly promised, walking away from the field before the soft grass got too tempting.


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you think anyone’s coming?” Yukiko’s voice was hoarse from yelling, forcing her to whisper. “They must have heard us by now, right?” She had to stretch up onto her tiptoes for Yumiko to hear her, clinging to her for balance. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Yeah, they must have!” She had been yelling much more than Yukiko, but Yumiko’s voice was still strong. “It just takes some time to get here, I guess.” Just in case, she lifted the megaphone to her mouth once more. “We’re still here! Come on, none of us want to fight!”

All they could do was keep waiting. Tired of holding the megaphone up, Yumiko let her arm fall to her side. Yukiko was still holding onto her. It was getting tough to support her weight, but the warmth and comfort of having her close was enough that she decided not to move away.

Minutes continued to pass, so slowly that they could easily have been hours, if Yumiko hadn’t been looking at her watch so often. Just past 10:30. They had been calling out and waiting for almost two hours, as unbelievable as it seemed. Should they have given up a long time ago? Had everyone already decided to abandon them- or were they all dead? Before her fearful thoughts could convince her to give up, Yukiko tugged at her shoulder, drawing her attention.

“Hey.” She gave a weak smile. “You’re worrying again. Come on, it’ll be okay.” Involuntarily, Yumiko’s face relaxed into an identical smile. There was no point hiding anything from Yukiko. She always knew, and there was no one better at cheering her up.

Yukiko might have been about to say something else, but her thoughts were interrupted by a loud rustle below them. It had come from the dark, tangled bushes that covered most of the northern mountain. It could have been an animal, or even just a strong wind, but Yumiko dared to let herself hope. They watched the bushes intently, trying not to make any noise that could scare away a potential friend.

After 36 seconds of rustling (Yumiko couldn’t ignore the ticking of her watch), a dark shape emerged from the leaves. The silhouette was clearly human, but they couldn’t quite tell who it was from their platform. Yumiko leaned closer, trying to pick up even the slightest hints of the student’s identity.

“Is it Shuya?” Yukiko’s voice had recovered a little, or at least enough that the excitement in her voice shone through. Yumiko couldn’t blame her. It would be nice if Shuya came to see them, even if he didn’t have any ideas on how to proceed. She risked leaning over the platform’s wall, eyes straining until the slowly approaching person came into clearer view.

“It’s Kaori.” A flash of disappointment crossed Yukiko’s face, but she was quick to smile again. Neither of them knew Kaori Minami well, but she seemed nice enough. As she carefully climbed up to the platform, Yumiko saw tears streaming down her bright-red cheeks.

By the time Kaori managed to climb up, her legs were shaking with fatigue. Trying to hold back sniffles, she fell back against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting. She was close enough that Yumiko could see a small locket, hanging open around her neck. She was pretty sure she had seen it before- Kaori had showed it off to everyone when it arrived. If she had to guess, she would say that the picture inside was one of those pop idols. Yumiko wasn’t a big fan of that scene, but the locket was an oddly comforting sight, for some reason.

“Hey,” she hesitantly offered, reaching a hand out to Kaori. She wasn’t quite sure how to approach her, but it wouldn’t be polite to just leave her alone. Not when she had clearly had a rough time getting to them. “Kaori, right? Thanks for coming, I’m really glad you-“

She paused, trying to process the sudden change in the situation. The first thing she noticed was Kaori’s face- she looked downright terrified, whereas before she had just seemed sad and worried. The second, and perhaps more important thing that she noticed was the glaring sunlight reflected by the barrel of a gun, clearly pointed up in her direction.

Her mind felt blank. What was she supposed to do? Was this even really happening? Completely unsure of what to do, she raised both her hands in a vaguely defensive gesture. “Hey, what-“

She was interrupted again, by something almost as shocking as the first time. She had been aware of Yukiko letting go of her shoulder when Kaori arrived, but she hadn’t paid a great deal of attention. Not until she saw Yukiko dive in front of her. She was much smaller than Kaori, but with the element of surprise on her side, Yukiko managed to tackle her to the floor.

Yumiko could only watch, not quite able to understand what she was seeing until a few seconds after it happened. Both girls seemed to be struggling for something. She regained enough presence of mind to take a stumbling step forward, just as Yukiko’s hand swiped at Kaori’s, fingertips scraping against the gun as she fell just short of being able to wrestle it out of her hand.

Kaori was quick to respond, perhaps even hasty. She snatched the gun away, back pressing against the wall in a useless effort to escape. Just as she realised she was cornered, Yukiko made another grab, accidentally scratching Kaori’s arm in her efforts. Her nails were long and neatly maintained, causing enough pain to pull a short cry from Kaori’s throat, but the fear that the injury sent through her was far worse. Yukiko wanted to kill her! If she lost her gun, she was going to die!

She didn’t want to die!

She wasn’t even aiming when she pulled the trigger. If she used the gun, she wouldn’t be in danger anymore- that was the extent of her thoughts on the matter. The force of the bullet’s ignition seemed to push Yukiko away, sending her sprawling across the wooden floor. Kaori scrambled to her feet, certain that she would get up again soon, but as seconds passed, the fallen girl didn’t move. Had she been knocked unconscious? She took a step forward, intending to find out, but the sound of a second gunshot stopped her in her tracks.

Where had it come from? There wasn’t even time to turn her head before the bullet passed through her left temple. She was aware of the beginning of a burning sensation in her head, and then she felt nothing. Her lifeless body fell to the floor in front of Yumiko, who was still completely frozen. The wound had sprayed blood far enough to hit the platform’s walls, larger drops slipping down Yumiko’s uniform and leaving wide scarlet trails. She gulped, trying not to look at it. She had something more important to worry about, after all.

Yukiko still wasn’t moving. She tried to be quick, but every step felt like she was trying to swim through molasses. Slow as she was, the distance wasn’t big, and it only took a few steps until she could kneel in front of her friend. Slipping her hands under Yukiko’s torso, Yumiko knew what was wrong just a split second before she saw it. She gently turned Yukiko around so she faced upward.

Her hand had already been spattered with bright spots of blood, but that was nothing. Just by brushing against Yukiko’s chest, her hand had come away red.

She didn’t want to believe it. She would give anything to not have to believe it. But no matter how hard she listened, she didn’t hear a single breath- not even the quickest, most shallow gasp imaginable. Yukiko had always been small, but she felt light as a feather in Yumiko’s arms, as if a large part of her had simply vanished.

And it had. She didn’t quite think of it as her spirit, but at the core of it, it was everything that made Yukiko who she was. They had spent so long together… Yumiko was sure she could even tell what Yukiko would have said, in a situation like this. “Yumi… it hurts.” Her eyes would be shining with tears, quivering lips set in a tense frown. But she wouldn’t cry. No one guessed it from looking at them, mainly due to their heights, but Yukiko had always been the strong one.

“I know,” she whispered, gently stroking Yukiko’s soft hair. She made sure to use her cleaner hand. “It’ll stop soon. I promise.” She blinked, unable to hold back her own tears. It was okay. Yukiko would understand, just like she always had. Sure enough, she could practically see that little smile she had seen hundreds of times before, the one that was equally bemused and concerned.

“I trust you.” Her voice was getting fainter, barely louder than Yumiko’s own laboured breaths. “…Yumi? One more thing. I-“

The voice in her imagination was cut short by the sound of a footstep, far too real. Slowly, she looked up, only vaguely aware of how pathetic she must have looked. She wasn’t sure who she had expected, but it certainly wasn’t Mitsuru Numai. He was nice, nicer than he tried to look, but he was holding a gun.

It didn’t matter. Wherever Yukiko had gone, she was ready to go too, if that was how it had to be. She just kept looking up at him, waiting to hear that terrible sound a third and final time.

He didn’t shoot. Instead, he carefully knelt down beside her, resting an oddly gentle hand on her shoulder for just a few brief seconds. He was warm, but it was nothing like the clinging, nauseating warmth of a pool of blood. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything to him, or even look up at him. He seemed to understand. An empty silence settled over them.

It didn’t last. She didn’t care enough to check her watch just to see how many minutes passed before Mitsuru handed her something. It was a gun- no, not just any gun. It was Kaori’s gun. “Be careful.” He was gone before Yumiko could even think of asking questions, so quickly that she couldn’t even tell which direction he had taken.

The thought of leaving didn’t even cross her mind. She and Yukiko had always been together, ever since the day they had met. That had never changed, and it was never going to. Slumping back against the wall, she could see a slice of bright blue sky between the roof and the treetops. It was a nice view, she thought as the gun slipped out of her hand.

_Wait for me, Yukiko._

* * *

Mitsuru had wished he could do more for Yumiko, but the gunshots were sure to attract unwanted attention. Hopefully she would come to her senses before too long and get out of there.

He had planned to approach carefully, taking step after quiet step in hopes of getting close enough to assess the situation. What he hadn’t counted on was someone else getting there before him. Remembering how he hadn’t seen her until he was close enough to look over Yumiko’s shoulder, there was no way to avoid the truth.

Kaori hadn’t been aiming at Yumiko. She had been aiming at him.

How much death had he already seen? When he dared to close his eyes for longer than an instant, he still saw Yoji Kuramoto’s clueless smile, the last expression he managed to make before Mitsuko Souma tore his neck open with a single neat slice of a sickle. Had he still been in denial? The game had been on for hours. Hell, students had already been announced dead. If Kuramoto still couldn’t accept that some people were willing to play, he was only making himself a target, Mitsuru concluded.

But if that was the case, then why had he given that gun to Yumiko? It wouldn’t have weighed him down considerably, and there was nothing stopping her from instantly shooting him with it. It was a stupid move, no matter how he looked at it. He started walking a little faster, trying not to remember the painfully familiar despair evident on Yumiko’s face as she held the body of her closest friend.

* * *

He tried not to show it, but Shogo’s perpetually tense shoulders relaxed just a little when Shuya reappeared, face pale and eyes downcast. It wasn’t exactly hard to tell what had caused it- Noriko had worn a similar expression when they started hearing gunshots. As the seconds afterward had passed, he had started to internally debate whether it was safe to keep waiting for Shuya, but he had returned before it was even necessary to make a decision.

“We should move.” They couldn’t afford to waste any time. Judging by the limited amount of the viewing platform he could see and hear, whoever had been shooting was probably gone, but “probably” wasn’t nearly enough. Besides, the bushes were far from being an ideal resting place, even if they were free of hostile classmates. “This way,” he prompted, pointing southwest once Noriko was standing.

Progress was about as quick as he could reasonably expect, even if he had to slow down or stop frequently to let the others catch up. Once the mountain peak was out of sight, Shuya spoke up, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic reluctance. “I couldn’t help them. I nearly got there in time, but then… it was already too late.”

“No one could have.” To Shuya and Noriko, Shogo sounded decisive. To his own ears, his voice was flat and hollow. “Once someone decides they’re playing, that’s it.” Their path curved around the mountain, descending at a comfortable rate. “Trying to reason with them? Might as well just throw your life away.” They didn’t look happy to hear that, as he had expected, but it was a truth that needed to be told. The last thing he needed was a repeat incident.

“Come on,” he continued before either of them could protest. “We’re almost there.”

* * *

Before the viewing platform had erupted into chaos, Shinji Mimura and Yutaka Seto had long since left it behind. After finding each other, Shinji had brought Yutaka to his nearby hiding place, apparently certain that they were safe and unwatched.

They were probably safe, Sho Tsukioka had concluded. But as long as he could keep quiet, Shinji and Yutaka were far from being unwatched.

The game had been unbelievably cruel. His clothes were stained all over with dirt and grass, his hair was full of leaves, and his hands were covered in scratches from pushing rough branches aside. But those minor annoyances were nothing compared to losing Kazuo. Sho had waited under the cover of the woods near the island’s southern tip, slightly perplexed when Kazuo was nowhere to be found. Had he really forgotten his own promise? No, he wasn’t the absentminded type. Something sinister was going on.

He hadn’t stuck around to find out what it was. By the time Mitsuru discovered Kazuo’s body, Sho was long gone, carefully following the west coast of the island until the terrain began to rise into hills. He hadn’t even been aware of Kazuo’s death until it was announced over the loudspeaker. From there, he had moved east, until he happened to spot the tripwire Shinji had laid. It was a clever trick, even if he hadn’t fallen for it- and it was that kind of cleverness that would keep them alive.

From the moment they had been made aware of their participation in the Program, Sho had been planning for survival. It wouldn’t be very smart to place his trust in anyone else, not when he had already seen what too much stress and paranoia could do to otherwise kind people. As much as he hated to accept it, even his own friends were no longer safe, especially without the guidance of their former leader.

Still, even if he couldn’t directly approach anyone, that didn’t mean he had to be completely alone. If anyone could figure out how to escape the island, it was Shinji- he might have been able to hide his extensive computer skills from the government, but he couldn’t hide them from Sho. As it turned out, “The Third Man” was just as smart as he was athletic and attractive- it hardly seemed fair, but he wouldn’t complain as long as he could figure out how to leave the Program. And once they had a way out, he could simply emerge from the trees as if he had just shown up, in time to join the escape. Perfect! At least, it had seemed that way at first, but he hadn’t counted on just how long it would take. Several hours had already crept past, and the only thing that had happened since the 6am announcement was Shinji’s brief journey to fetch Yutaka. That had been a blessing in disguise, surprisingly enough- Shinji and Yutaka’s conversation helped pass the time a bit quicker.

They were such good friends, apparently comfortable with disclosing all kinds of secrets to each other. Sho couldn’t imagine being so sure of someone’s loyalty. He wouldn’t say that he didn’t care about his friends (former friends? At what point was it acceptable to decide their friendship was over?), but ultimately, their gang was just like any other business: people determined to get ahead, whatever the cost.

He reached into his pocket, hand instinctively seeking a cigarette. He had an almost-full box, but he stopped himself before he could pull one out. No matter how careful he was, he wouldn’t be able to hide the smoke. Annoying as it was, he would have to wait. Trying not to think about the issue, he focused his attention on Shinji’s laptop, trying to see what he was doing. Did it really need to take so long? With some careful repositioning of the surrounding leaves and branches, he managed to get close enough to see the screen, but it told him nothing. Despite putting in reasonable effort (his father insisted that he at least get passing grades), he had never been any good at English- a fact that wouldn’t have bothered him nearly as much if not for the lack of nicotine in his system.

Shinji was explaining his methods to Yutaka. Something about a phone line that could somehow bypass the authorities. It wasn’t exactly Sho’s area of expertise, but it was definitely something worth considering once he was out of the Program. Boredom was making a gradual return, dulling his senses enough that the sudden, fearfully loud gunshot came as a shock.

He nearly jumped right out of his hiding place, but managed to seize control of himself just in time. Where had the shot come from? It hadn’t been Shinji or Yutaka- they seemed equally surprised, looking around for any sign of a gun. It wasn’t until the echo of the sound died away that it hit him. From where he was waiting, the sounds of Yumiko Kusaka and Yukiko Kitano calling out had been distant and unintelligible, but their voices remained a near-constant background presence that was easy to ignore.

Not anymore. It was completely silent, or at least it was silent until a second shot rang out. It was slightly quieter, which he supposed was a good sign. If there had to be an active shooter on the island, he preferred them as far away as possible.

He hadn’t been fully aware that he was hoping for Yumiko or Yukiko to call out again until he was forced to accept that it wasn’t going to happen. Pity was wasted on the dead, but he spared a thought for them before returning to keeping an eye on Shinji. His face had turned a sickly shade of white as he slowly tapped the keys of his laptop. _That’s it,_ Sho silently encouraged. _The sooner we’re out of here, the better._

* * *

Those girls were still yelling. Ryuhei’s one free hand curled and uncurled into a fist, doing little to relieve his irritation. Didn’t they know that it was too late for any of them?

Aside from that noise, the clinic and the area around it had been quiet. No one had approached the building, and Hiroshi was still fast asleep. There was no need to wake him, unless some kind of disaster struck. He was a little thirsty, but the clinic had no running water, so all he could do was ignore the slight discomfort in his throat. Strange as it sounded, the atmosphere was almost peaceful.

He leaned back in his chair, mind starting to drift. It was dangerous to let himself get distracted, but being alone was so boring. Nothing to do, no one to talk to, nowhere to go. As mind-numbingly dull as school could be, at least he always had friends nearby.

Their group, nicknamed the Kiriyama Family (no one seemed to know who or where the name had come from), had been unshakeably loyal to one another since their first year of junior high. Their transition from a loose group of associates to a formalised gang had been gradual, but a single day stood out in their history.

He and Mitsuru, friends since Mitsuru had beaten him up in their third year of elementary school (that was another story altogether), had been quick to stake out their territory in the new school. It was made to contain a much larger student population, so abandoned classrooms were all too easy to find. Even if it was only their first day, Ryuhei was confident about their place in the world.

That lasted until the next morning, when Mitsuru showed up at their hideout with two broken fingers, and a stranger tagging along behind him.

“Who’s that?” Ryuhei sat up from his comfortable position, where he had been lounging across a row of desks. The intruder had nothing particularly special about him that he could see, but whenever Mitsuru looked his way, there was a look of admiration that Ryuhei had only ever seen him direct towards world-champion fighters and heroes. The types of people who existed on a completely different layer of success, well outside the reach of a few junior-high punks.

When the stranger showed no inclination towards introducing himself, Mitsuru was quick to take on the responsibility. Apparently he was Kazuo Kiriyama, the name spoken as if it held some kind of importance all on its own. If it did, Ryuhei was unaware of it. “Great. So what’s he here for, do we have to teach him a lesson or something?” It was still early, but he wouldn’t say no to a fight if someone was offering. He was already moving to slide off the desk when Mitsuru’s loud exclamation stopped him.

“No!” He was suddenly standing between them, arms outstretched. A look of alarm was clear on his face, but he wasn’t looking at Kazuo, who he was apparently so intent on protecting. “I’m just showing him around. He’s a pretty cool guy, you know.” Considering that he had seemed on the verge of panic just seconds before, it was strange how casual Mitsuru sounded. Even if he couldn’t even begin to figure it out, something more was going on.

“He doesn’t look very cool.” Ryuhei felt that he was only stating a fact. Kazuo wasn’t tall or muscular, and he didn’t have any scars that suggested he was a seasoned fighter. That in itself was forgivable (Ryuhei wasn’t particularly big himself, even if he wouldn’t let anyone get away with pointing that out), but his school coat was neat and buttoned up all the way, his hair was long but unstyled, and he was apparently content to witness their conversation in silence, not contributing so much as a facial expression. 

“You’ll see.” Before Ryuhei could call him out on being a cryptic asshole for no reason, Mitsuru continued. “There’s some third-years, going round saying they’re the toughest. We’re gonna go prove them wrong after school, are you in?”

“Third-years? Are you fucking insane?” Arrogant as he could be, he knew his place. Third-years were the kings of the school, completely untouchable. It wasn’t even safe for a first-year to look one of them in the eye, let alone contemplate fighting them.

“Just trust me. We’ve got this.” Against all of his better instincts, Ryuhei had nodded, telling himself that there had to be something else going on. Mitsuru could be rash, but he wasn’t stupid or masochistic. He wasn’t exactly ready to welcome Kazuo into their space, but he was curious enough to just wait and see what would happen.

He wasn’t disappointed. He couldn’t quite put a name to what he felt as Kazuo effortlessly slammed a massive ninth-grader’s face into concrete, but it wasn’t disappointment. Once the fight was over (but was it really a fight if one side never even got to throw a punch?), Kazuo had left without even looking at Mitsuru or Ryuhei.

That day, he was sure he had seen something incredible. Kazuo Kiriyama, who was so strong that he didn’t need to care about anything. But as he sat upright in his chair, gun held close to his lap so he wouldn’t have to see his hands shaking, the world seemed so different that even his memories weren’t the same anymore. Maybe it wasn’t that Kazuo didn’t care because he was strong. Maybe he was strong because he didn’t care.

Thinking about Kazuo was starting to hurt less. He tried to take that as a good sign.

A distant sound echoed from above. Whatever it was, the source was far away, but Ryuhei was startled into action. He ducked below the window, gun ready to fire at a second’s notice. As he waited in silence, he heard it again- a sharp cracking sound, not too different from the highly illegal fireworks he had set off more than once. But even if there was a chance of there being fireworks on the island, a cry of pain, inadvertently broadcast by a dropped megaphone, dashed any potential hopes of that.

He had known it was going to happen, ever since they had first called out, but that didn’t make it any less sickening. Someone innocent had been gunned down for believing that her classmates, her friends couldn’t be murderers. Whoever she was, she had cared about someone enough to reach out to them.

She had cared too much. Ryuhei could be strong. He could stop caring, if that was what it took to survive. Pulling his face into a hardened expression that no one would see, he slowly returned to the chair, still watching in the same direction. Holding the gun up near his shoulder, his hands barely shook at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love to suffer.
> 
> As always, any feedback is more than appreciated, and further inspires me to continue improving!


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